The Star in the Night
by CherryBlossomInquisitor
Summary: Out of guilt towards the Dayne family, Ned takes Ashara's bastard daughter and raises her in the North. She is raised as Catelyn Stark's ward and becomes like another member of the Stark family, but she has never ignored her Dayne and Dornish roots. How does she survive and change the world of Game of Thrones? Pairing undecided.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note** : I hope you all enjoy my first story. Please read and review!

* * *

What does a mother do when her child doesn't cry? What does she do when such a small thing bundled up in many blankets, doesn't cry their little heart out like every other baby does when it is born? What does a mother do? Should her mind wander in circles, thinking with trepidation that this child might be different? That it was simply a child that does not cry after a few seconds after birth like the norm? It might be a quiet little thing or too obstinate to give out a scream. She'll sooner see the infant moving their little lips and watch their tiny, little fingers curl and uncurl.

Yet that wasn't happening.

"Why…" Her voice was laced with fear, completely breathless. It seemed almost painful for her to even speak with how constricting her throat felt from trying to choke back her cries. "Why isn't she crying?" Her question came out so softly despite how she was screaming it over and over again in her mind. "Why isn't she crying, Maester?!" She asked again, much more fervently, eyes gazing at this fragile thing with a tuft of curly black hair that had their eyes closed from the world. From her, most of all.

"My lady," His tone was cautious, trying not to rile her before she would become hysterical. She was nearing it, her hand kept gingerly rubbing the side of the baby's head. The motion was rushed, almost like she was trying to soothe the girl awake and was losing her patience by the minutes. "She was born six moons. It isn't unheard of, Lady Ashara, but I'm afraid it is likely she won't live."

"What do you mean it is likely she won't live, Warwyn?! She's alive now, she'll stay alive! She's going to wake up and I'm going to feed her. Love her." She hardly believed what she was saying because the screaming sobs that filled the room that was supposed to be her daughter's were her own. Ashara clutched the baby close to her, her body rocking back and forth as she couldn't find it in herself to separate herself from the quiet child.

The Maester and the midwivess and servants turned their heads, unable to see her in her pain. Ashara felt like her heart was being torn to shreds by the claws of a beast. She interrupted her crying to draw breath, just to continue the same raving tune. It wasn't fair, she kept telling herself. This was her firstborn, possibly the only child she would ever have and now she was gone. She was gone before she could even properly live.

Warwyn soon tried to pry the newborn out of her arms and Ashara gave a fight before giving in, reluctantly letting her go. Her arms wrapped around her middle, clutching herself as she tried to keep herself together as if she would simply fall apart into pieces. Warwyn gazed down at the baby, his own pain surfacing at the sight of the cryless girl. He would put her in the room that was meant to be her nursery and to see if any changes would come for the night. It might've been fruitless to think the little thing would be alive, but it was better than not trying and declare the newborn babe dead.

Allyria came rushing down the hall, her skirts lifted so that she didn't trip over them. Her run came to a slow jog to a fast walk when she approached Warwyn. Her eyes immediately went looking down at the bundle in his skinny arms. She slowly moved her head to look in the direction of Ashara's room, hearing her sister's cries echoing in the halls like a haunting silhouette. Hearing how loud and entwined with pain they were, she already assumed that the worse had happened.

"Will she survive the night?" She quietly asked, her expression grim. Warwyn hadn't said a word, just giving her an unsure look instead. "Lord Ned Stark is here. He says wants to see Ashara and he won't leave. He say he won't until he sees her."

"Then let him see her." Warwyn closed his eyes, releasing a sigh that he held in for quite a while. "Please, calm her. I can't do it. I must tend to the child."

Allyria glanced down at the baby, her fingers lightly ghosting over the thin, light eyebrows of the newborn. The child felt lukewarm, not warm of life but neither cold of death. It was in the realm of in between, and whether it could escape that realm and come back to the world of the living was entirely up to the Gods now.

"Such a beautiful thing she is." Her lips pursed to coo, feeling despondent since the child couldn't see or react to it. "Who does she remind you of?"

"Her mother," Warwyn answered without thought, "Ashara looked the same as a babe when she was born." He sounded warm, filled with nostalgia of years ago. "Except this one is so much smaller than Ashara I should say. You sister was a small and petite thing too, but her? I fear just holding this one."

Allyria chuckled at the thought, "I suppose the girl is such a small thing since she made Ashara regret everything feasted herself to." The both of them laughed, smiling while trying to keep the air rather light. The both of them wanted to be happy, but Ashara's cries that filled the hall and reminded them why happiness wasn't welcomed now.

"Maester," Allyria bowed her head to signal her leave, "I'll go to Ashara now." Her eyes rested on the child, giving her a sweet, sorrow look before walking down the hall to meet her grieving sister.

Warwyn adjusted his arm, fixing the blanket around the babe as he hurried himself towards the nursery. He was sure that Ned Stark meeting Ashara like this wouldn't be good for her, especially since she knew her child was not long for life. What did he come for anyway? Something told him that nothing good was coming out of this. If he didn't have to tend the babe, he would've kept a watchful eye to make sure Lord Stark didn't have Ashara spiraling deeper in her sadness than she already was.

 **EDDARD**

It brought him no joy to be here. How could he feel any sort of joy? Carrying this sword, Dawn, at his hip just to rightfully give it to the family of one of the most brilliant and fearsome knight that he had ever known. The same knight that he had to kill upon the risk of saving his precious and only sister, and what had been the result? Pain. A rather endless sort of suffering he'd carry with him for the rest of his life. And now he would have to endure Ashara, learning of her brother's death as he placed his sword in her hands as it belonged to none other than the Daynes.

Ashara was something to him once; a friend or first love, something in between, just maybe. His once young heart could never quite figure it out, but he owed it to her to be there and be the one to explain. Then he would ride off to Winterfell, bringing back his newborn little boy to explain to Catelyn. Just that alone could ruin them forever. It was something that she would, undoubtedly, never truly accept. It was the risk that he was willing to take despite what it could cost him.

As he walked down the halls, he heard nothing. It was completely silent. Not only was it silent here in Starfall, but it had been unimaginably cold. It felt colder than Winter's bone-freezing winds, which seemed so strange to him since Ned never expected to feel such a thing in a humid place such as Dorne. The halls also felt lifeless as if he was the only one in the castle. It wasn't true, however, he had seen plenty of people, but all of them had looked so grim. All of them wore faces as if they already knew Ser Arthur was dead. It had to be something else yet Ned couldn't quite put his finger on it.

When the servant brought him a step closer to Ashara's room, his ears picked up the sound of sorrowful weeping. His feet nearly stopped, making him just about too cowardly to move. What had brought such a lively girl as Ashara to tears? She hadn't known about Arthur just yet, so what could it have been? What had gone on in Starfall? The servant told him nothing, choosing silence and obeying orders in stead. Ned wasn't one to be too persistent unless he need to be and he was starting to feel the need now.

Quietly, the servant slipped through a small crack of the door and closed it behind them. The newly Lord of Winterfell could hear muffled conversation until he heard Ashara's sweet voice say "let him in." She sounded so tired, so pained, so… broken. The girl who danced and smiled? He never imagined she could ever be brought to such a low point. How could he stomach to tell her about Arthur now? Could her heart handle such a news?

When the door opened for him, fully, Ned took slow steps inside to see Ashara sitting in a chair by the window. Her curly, black hair was, for right now, a wild mane that looked as if she had been running like mad against the wind. Her eyes, gorgeous and violet that could hold any man with a single stare, were red and shining with tears. She looked as if she never had reason to smile in her life before right now, and Ned had no idea why.

"You've come at such a terrible time, Ned." She said to him, her voice filling his ears in that gentle way that he remembered during their time in Harrenhal. Ashara had such a soft voice, a lulling voice. It entranced all who spoke to her just like her eyes did. "Look at me…" Her hands quickly moved to wipe her tearing eyes, "a mess." There should've been a smile there and yet there was none. "I hate that you have to witness me in such a state."

"Ashara," He spoke her name, his voice nearly quavering in his lack of will, "I've come to tell you news I think you should know firsthand."

Her eyes kept staring out the window in the direction of the Torrentine river as if it was the only thing her eyes ever wanted to see. "What is it that brings you all the way to Dorne to see me, Ned? Is the war done? Have you come to tell me that?"

His grey eyes lowered, unable to look at her much more. He could barely stomach the words that left him, "I've come to bring you Arthur's sword… Your brother is…"

"Dead." Ashara finished the sentence for him and he heard her voice break as soon as she did. Her eyes welled up with brand new tears and she shook her head, her fist hammering against her chest as if to reduce the pain it must've felt. "Gods! Arden and now Arthur… How the gods be so cruel! Where is the Mother when I needed her?"

Arden? Ned never heard of Arden Dayne before and it left him puzzled. However, he knew it best to bring her the sword and so he removed it from his sword belt and knelt down on one knee, holding it out to her. "I am so sorry, Ashara. I… He was protecting Rhaegar Targaryen and this war… You know what it cost me. You know that I had to…"

"You…" Keeping his down, his eyes refused to look at her. He just couldn't find it in himself to raise his head. "You killed Arthur?" She sounded so shock, so hurt. "You murdered my brother?"

His heart couldn't bare to gaze upon her, now but his honor forced his eyes to lift up to meet her own and give her a gentle nod in answer. Ashara was a whole torrent of emotions: she was angry, she was sad, she was confused, and she was lost. Yes, Ashara was lost most of all and Ned knew that her wails was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. Sleep after this war was going to be the most difficult of things he ever done, but Ned knew he owed her this. This explanation. _This truth._

"Leave me." Her voice was as sharp as a Dawn's blade and he felt it pierce his flesh, right through his heart. "Leave me now!" Her voice grew higher in her rage and Ned found himself on his feet before he knew it.

Not wanting her to bring her any more pain, Ned silently bowed his head and got himself to his feet. He would leave, heart heavy and wounded with another cut so deep, but he would leave her. He would let her deal with this mourning because who possibly would want comforting words by the man who put a blade in the person they love? Their family most of all. Eddard left her room and just like her eyes, her crying irises of purple was haunting him right now. Even though he was taking several paces away from the room, even going down a flight of stairs, her wails sounded like they were being done right next to his ear. In the midst of her cries, he could hear Lyanna's voice: _"Promise me, Ned. Promise me."_ It all made him feel like collapsing to the floor to finally shed his own grief that he had been holding, but he could not do that. He hadn't deserved that sort of peace, especially not now.

The corners of his eyes caught the sight of a door being opened, a Maester exiting the room with his head down. His eyes only stared at the floor as if they were much too pained and heavy to lift up and gaze at anything else. "Maester." Ned called the man, who immediately turned to look at him. "I beg of you to go to Ashara's side now. She is filled with much grief."

The white-haired man narrowed his eyes some, "And what brings my lady's grief? What have you told her Lord Stark? What have you come to Starfall for?"

"I came to bring news of Ser Arthur Dayne, Maester." The old man stiffened upon that, his eyes widening in shock. "He is dead and I've returned his sword, Dawn, because this is where it rightfully should be."

"Gods, no." Shaking his head, the Maester closed his eyes. "If I had known you've come all this way to tell her this, I would have denied you, Lord Stark. I would've made you turn around and never step foot in Starfall."

"She has the right to know." Ned urged, "That was her brother, she loved him. She needed to know."

"It is not about rights and loved, my lord." said the Maester, "Ashara has just about lost her child, she shan't hear anymore news of death. Not today."

Ned's whole world became so still that he thought he wasn't breathing. The wound in his heart grew deeper, bringing more of a sting as his eyes lowered in disbelief to the floor. She lost a child? He hadn't even known she was with child at all and now this child was not of this world like Arthur. Why did no one tell him? He would've kept the news from her until she was of proper mind to hear it and now it was too late. He should've known something was wrong, she was crying before he even saw her and now this?

The man went running, possibly to go see Ashara now. Ned worried for her, but his curiosity towards the open door of the nursery captured his attention. He could see the crib from here. His feet moved when his heart and head did not give the order. Ned did not need to torture himself with more guilt and regrets, but he had to see it. He had to see one of the many wrongs he committed since the start of this rebellion.

Inside this bassinet of white was the tiniest thing he ever saw in his life. The baby was smaller than Jon also had a little less hair than the boy did and yet this baby was still so beautiful to him. The baby's chest only moved slightly, barely letting someone able to decipher if it was breathing or not. Ned didn't know what it was about children that made them so easy to move his heart. His knuckles went to brush the baby's brow, wishing that Ashara didn't have to suffer like this. She deserved better. She deserved much more than all this heartache.

 **CATELYN**

It had been an entire year since she last saw her lord husband. Catelyn was made to remain in Riverrun with her first and only child. Her little boy named Robb. She would sit by the window, wondering if Ned would return just like she used to wait for her father. Men often times did not come back from wars and yet she had a feeling that Ned would. Something in her gut had told her so.

Her husband had not earned her love yet, at least not fully. She loved him little for blessing her with her auburn-haired boy, but she still did not know much of him to love him completely. She didn't get the time to talk much to the solemn and Quiet Wolf for he had a war to go running off to fight in.

Her eyes slowly down gazed to the boy in her lap, who was only of one year now. It seemed so strange how her red-faced boy had grown so much. He was growing in so many ways and his father had not seen any of it. Would Robb know Ned? She would sometimes wonder. How could the boy know his father when his father was such a stranger to him? Her hands gingerly rubbed the side of his head, the boy was sleeping so peacefully with no care in the world. Catelyn then caught sight of banners fluttering in the wind and she immediately held her boy close to her chest while rising to her feet.

 _'It's Ned…'_

Catelyn was surprised, unsure even. She would greet him with their son, the son he didn't know he had for a whole year. This son he could've almost never met had he fallen in battle. What would Ned say? To his first boy, his first child. Would the Quiet Wolf smile and say some words that would make her heart flutter? Would her boy know of a whole family unlike she did? Servants came to tell her news that she was already well aware of and she made sure to dress Robb in his better clothes and that she was presentable.

By the time all was well and done, Catelyn made her way to the courtyard of her Tully home, where she would see her husband for the first time since their wedding. Her father stood beside her and so did her little brother, Edmure, and her uncle, Brynden. All of them gathered rightfully so and when she saw Ned climb down his horse, she smiled so softly to him.

"You have returned, whole and well, my husband." She had been grateful of that. The Seven answered her prayers to bring him back alive and greatly unharmed. "I present to you, your son, Robb Stark." Her lord husband seemed so surprised at her announcement, but his eyes look to their boy in what she deemed happy curiosity. Robb had awoken by then, annoyed by the noise and giving out disgruntled sounds to show he hadn't liked it. He was a brash baby, which she couldn't help but to adore.

"My son?" Ned questioned so in disbelief, raising the boy so that he could get a proper look at his face. Catelyn gave him a nod confirming it all while also wondering if she should clarify that he had been a honeymoon child. He seemed to have understand, his smile proved it. "My son." He repeated, this time without question.

"He appears to have my look… The Tully look." That had worried her since she was sure he wanted his children to have the Stark look. For him to be the first boy and have nearly all of her and only pieces of him, she wondered if that would leave him dissatisfied.

Her husband kept his rare smile. "There's nothing wrong with that." His words relieved her and made her heart flutter, just a little. Her smile was much warmer now that she felt the weight leaving her shoulders some. "But there is something I must speak to you about before we leave for Winterfell, Catelyn." She wasn't sure why he sounded so serious and she was neither sure why she felt as if she wasn't going to like this news.

After all the greetings and her firm words of letting her husband retire after his long travels, the both of them were finally able to be alone in the bedchamber they once shared for a night. Ned told her she should sit for it, frightening her, as he stood by the window with his his head slightly low. What could he possibly tell her to garner such actions? She held her patience to high regard for herself right then as she waited.

"I've brought back with me a son." Her heart dropped. Her eyes were bigger than a prayer wheel for the Seven as he just unloaded that truth on her. Catelyn was furious, for many reasons. He broken his vow and slept with another woman while married to him. He brought back a _bastard_. "And he will live with us. I will not abandon him." Now he was telling her that this child was made to live with them. It was rarely heard of, but most importantly, it was a slap in the face. How could he bring such embarrassment to her? Had she deserved this? What had she done to make him think something like this had been acceptable?

"How dare you?!" Catelyn found her voice after her state of shock, "How dare you bring back a bastard?! How dare you expect for me to be accepting of it living with us?!" It. He told her it was a boy, but it had been an it to her. It was something she did not want to acknowledge nor accept. It was a potential danger to her children and her grandchildren; both in life and rights. What if this baseborn child wanted Winterfell one day? What was she to do to stop it?

"He is my blood. Whether you accept it or not doesn't matter." He was so cold. His voice held an edge and his eyes were narrowed like the tip of an arrowhead. That meant he would not argue nor would he accept her refusal. What did she have to do? Did she have to beg? Did she have to cry to see how hurtful this all was? "And I brought another bastard." No, she refused it all even more now. She could not allow it. Not only was there one, but two? How many women did this so-called honorable Ned Stark bed? Was she that such a horrible of a wife that he kept seeking out other women? Did he truly hate the fact that he had to marry her? Had she made him hate her on their wedding night?

"But the child is not mine." That… relieved her. Some. Only some. Catelyn couldn't let out a sigh for she could barely remember how to properly breathe. "She is the daughter of Lady Ashara of House Dayne."

Catelyn remembered the Dayne name. She remembered that this was the girl that had been the lady-in-waiting for Princess Elia Martell. "And why would you bring another woman's bastard into our home? If she is not yours, what is she to you?"

"My responsibility." Her eyes watched him rub his face, a look of guilt plaguing him now. "I don't know who her father is and neither does anyone in Starfall, but her mother… Her mother jumped from a tower when I gave her back her brother's sword after admitting I killed him in battle. I could not… I _had_ to do something. You may never accept my boy, but could you accept her? She deserves better. Let her be your ward and raise her in Winterfell. Let me right the wrongs I have done to her family."

His honor was besmirched with the bastard boy, and he was showing the glimpses of it she thought were lost for this little girl. Her heart did go out to this child, hearing of how she lost her mother, but she couldn't help but not to think it wise. "What if she blames you for their deaths and wishes to kill you when she is of age to understand? How can you think to raise this child while knowing this?"

"I'm not thinking of me, Catelyn, I'm thinking of Ashara… I owe her this." He wished to honor this woman before he honored her and that wounded her. Catelyn closed her eyes and wanted to refuse. She wanted to say no. This man deserved none of her mercy and neither did his horde of bastards. Her heart was soft, perhaps because it had been so weak duw to the pain. Whether she said yes or no, Catelyn believed neither mattered. The boy would stay with them without her say so, so why did he allow her voice to the second? Did he think the girl's terrible background would make her be forgiving? Perhaps because the baby was a girl, did he think that would make her want to raise it?

"We will keep the girl."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note** :

* * *

 **EDDARD**

More than ten years had turned like pages of book, only going forward until its inevitable end. Within the decade, Ned had felt pain so fresh each day and each year. He thought to rectify the mistakes he made, carrying out the promises made to and from him with earnest and steadfastness, but how could he? Everywhere his eyes looked, he saw a reminder of all he had went through. He saw all he loved, but mostly of all that he had lost. How does a man have a heart that does not ache with just that? Wherever his eyes looked, his heart ached just a little more.

His first reminder of all loved and lost was Robb, his first boy. Ned felt an intense happiness upon the sight of him when he came back from Dorne to Riverrun. Robb didn't hold the Stark features much to his relief. He was glad that Catelyn's blood, her Tully blood, had flowed so strong in all physical aspects of him. It hadn't, however, changed the fact that even though his boy did not have the Stark look, he had the Stark traits.

Robb reminded him every bit of Brandon, the older brother Ned loved and was envious of. Sometimes he wondered if this was old gods cursing his childish envy by blessing Robb of Brandon's curls and even the tone of his voice. Sometimes when his own son spoke, Ned thought he was hearing his brother. He wondered if it was all in his head, but Robb's mischievous smiles at times proved otherwise. What he loved most was that the boy smiled so much that sometimes Ned wondered how the boy's face wasn't so sore. Jon, however…

Jon made Lyanna's voice loud and even sadder in his head day and night. _"Promise me, Ned. Promise me."_ It would make Ned's lips tremble at times and his eyes look like polluted rivers due to their grey. Jon was all of Lyanna. All of her. Even down to the way he would make his eyes big as he looked up at him. Those forlorn grey eyes had been the spitting image of when he saw his sister last. Sometimes Ned couldn't find it in himself to look the boy in fear his vision would make Lyanna appear before him instead.

Then there was Arden—Arden Sand since the girl could not hold the prestigious Dayne name. She had been a Stark in his eyes and even Catelyn's, who loved her, fed her, and raised her as if she were one of their own. Ashara had violet eyes that would laugh and haunt, so what of her daughter? Her daughter's eyes were a ghost of her mother's; laughing and haunting, smiling and frowning, all at once. The way her lips formed their smile, the catish way she could make her violet eyes look evil or mischievous, the way she laughed, the way she danced, even how she stood; Ashara. All Ned could see was Ashara. All he could see was the woman who he first met in Harrenhal, who Brandon convinced to give Ned the chance for a dance, and whose heart he broke into much tinier and fragile pieces than it already was. _"You murdered my brother?"_

 **JON**

The Wolfswood was quiet. Perhaps it could be considered peaceful in a dangerous sort of way. You never knew what was lurking, what could be a threat, and yet you couldn't help but feel nervous and calm all at once. What he loved most was the fresh smell. The smell of the woods and the sounds of the streams that could lull you fast asleep. Sometimes he felt like camping out here, but the forest floor would never beat a warm bed by the fire. One day, he promised to come out here by himself for the solitude then he wouldn't have to worry about stepping on anyone's toes and he could become a better hunter in the process.

"I don't see any rabbits or elks" said his older brother Robb, who was still halfway spinning around where he stood in search for the animals he claimed he didn't see. Most of them had been scared off, possibly from the argument that ensued minutes ago. Jon and Theon were never friends, never really got along about anything. They had their moments, where friendship didn't seem so strange to them, but it was Robb or Arden that brought them together half of the time.

For the briefest of moments, he missed her while he was out here. Arden and Arya were the only two people that made him feel like he belonged here. Arden was an actual bastard like he was and Arya was different from the rest of the Starks in her own right. He remembered hearing that he and Arden came to Riverrun at the same time, which was probably why they were so close. Arden was always there and they shared their pains together. How they wished they were trueborn and that they knew their mothers. Sadly, their similarities ended there. Arden still lived a better life than he did.

Their father had no issue telling her about her mother or of her Dayne heritage. The girl never knew her father, like he never knew his mother, but it was only because his father didn't know who the man was either. So in some ways, he was even luckier than her for having to know one parent. Then there was the matter of Lady Stark, who favored her mainly because she was not of the Stark blood like he was. He was the Stark bastard while she was the bastard from Dorne of another mother and father. She didn't stain his father's honor or was made during the breaking of the vows his father made to his wife.

"Jon?" Robb voice brought him back to reality, making him blink and shove his thoughts away. "Y'see that?" Pointing towards South, Jon turned his head to see a deer in plain view. "We're gonna have ourselves a deer for sup'."

"Really?" Theon challenged, "You gonna tackle it to the ground? Just let me handle it." The Greyjoy was already readying his arrow with a smug look on his face. Jon and Robb had their spears, but Jon wasn't as good with it as Robb was. It didn't matter to Jon though, he was more than sure the both of them could catch the deer without Theon's help.

"Robb and I can catch it just fine without you." Without a moment to waste, Theon let the arrow go, only for it to miss. The sound of a snapping branch seconds prior to his shot had warned the wild animal that it wasn't alone and making it run off, dodging the arrow by the thinnest of hairs.

"Who did that?!" Annoyed, Theon spun on his heels towards them as he prepared to berate them. "You knew I had it and—"

Robb shook his head, brows scrunched together in confusion. "Calm yourself, it wasn't us. It must've been another animal." His brother's eyes observed the place one more time, hoping he could catch what sent the deer away. "We have to follow it or we'll be going back empty-handed."

"We're going to follow a deer all around the Wolfswood?" Jon asked, making it sound even more ridiculous to him. He didn't, however, want to go back and show that their hunt had been for nothing. It was embarrassing, especially with the fact that three boys, almost men, couldn't catch a single animal? He knew their father would be disappointed, even if it he didn't say so. Just the look on his face and his pity encouragement was enough to seep deep into their bones and make them feel that they could've done better.

"We're going to split up and meet back here." Robb, always wanting to be the leader in things, had suggested. "Don't stray too far." He warned, giving them all a serious look. "Theon, put an arrow to the ground here so we'll know it's the right spot."

Rather reluctantly, Theon one of the several arrows out of his quiver and stab its sharp head into the ground. "I'll be back with the deer." Theon smirked, mostly at Jon before the three of them had split apart. Just thinking of how cocky the Greyjoy felt about this stupid mission had urged Jon to try much harder.

Tightening his grip of his spear, his dark and grey eyes darted around at every single spot of the verdant woods. Not once had he caught sight of that deer they saw earlier, but he was sure it didn't matter if it was the same one or not. An elk would've been a bigger achievement, one that their father might be more proud of. The sudden need to be the better son flooded his mind, almost to the point he hadn't realized that near a some bright, evergreen bushes was a tall elk eating away at blades of grass.

When his eyes finally caught sight of it, Jon slowed down his steps and quietly side-stepped towards the closest tree to remain unseen. There was a good distance, distance that worked in his favor, between him and the elk that he was sure he could take it down. Calming his nerves, he slowly raised the spear and narrowed his eyes to keep his sights locked solely onto it. As soon as he felt prepared enough to throw it, an arrow had pierced clean through the elk's neck and then a second to give it a quick death.

Its large body flopped to the ground, right on its sight, in the loudest of thuds that scared off birds that were in the treetops. The quickness of it all startled him and then incensed him all the same. "I almost had it!" Leaving his cover, too angered by his golden opportunity gone to waste, Jon stood out in the open to confront Theon. Seconds turned into minutes and he was still out there, by himself, right near the dead elk. He didn't hear a single sound as he spun around, looking for any sight of Theon.

"You were taking too long." His eyes snapped left, his angry expression slowly morphing into one of shock.

"Arden?!" Jon supposed that he shouldn't have been shocked, knowing just how she was after all. She came from behind a tree, looking rather anxious as she chewed on her bottom lip. "You could've gotten hurt out here!" His steps were nearly frenzied as he closed the distance between them, his eyes roaming all over her form to see if she hadn't gotten herself hurt while out here. "What would I tell Father and Lady Stark had something happened to you out here? You do know wild animals and Wildlings come out here, don't you?"

Arden slung the bow on her shoulder, fixing it a bit as she adjusted the strap of her quiver. "The three of you were taking too long and I was worried." Despite how furious he wanted to be for her putting herself in danger like this, he couldn't help but find his lips twitching upwards into a smile. Sometimes he thought Arden and Arya were going to be the death of him for their affinity for chaos. They just couldn't just be proper ladies like Sansa, sit in one place and sew. Arden could sew, quite well actually, but she claimed the talent was good in case she needed to stitch a wound. Most girls strayed from wounds, except for her.

Unable to say anything more since it was already done, he shook his head and walked back towards the elk. "C'mon, help me tie it before another animal smells it and fights us for it."

The Dornish girl quickly made her way over, bending her knee in order to grab its hind legs while he grabbed the front ones to tie together onto the spear in efforts to carry it. Her violet eyes would occasionally glance at him, "If you want, I can hurry on to Winterfell and say that you were the one who caught it."

"They'll know it wasn't me." Jon's grey eyes pointed to the arrows as he spoke, "Only you and Theon are the ones that good with a bow."

"Robb is going to get angry, isn't he?" With a half smile, Jon gave her a nod as his answer. "I hate when he's angry with me. He gets so fussy." Sighing, she helped him lift it up, placing the blunt end of the spear atop of her shoulder while he kept the dangerous part, the bladed end, atop of his.

"You should've thought of that before you came out here." He heard her suck her teeth, making him chuckle as she hardly prepared herself for what was to come. "He probably won't be too angry seeing as you helped catch the supper he wanted."

Jon couldn't very well believe what he said. Robb was the protective brother, rather smothering his siblings than letting them have any free reign, mainly the girls. He didn't have to worry about Sansa seeing as she loathed these kind of things, but Robb constantly scolded Arya and Arden a lot due to their needs for adventure.

He led them back towards the spot that he was meant to meet up with Robb and Theon, just to see the two of them waiting with their arms crossed over their chests. It seemed that neither one of them had caught anything. Both of them were surprised when they caught sight of Arden as they approached. As of expected, Robb's surprise quickly withered away.

"Arden?" Robb called her name, voice laced with annoyance like she feared. He could tell without looking at her that she was grimacing at the moment, possibly cursing coming out here now. "What're you doing out here?"

"She was worried." He found himself defending her, as always, and sighing a bit when Robb's heated gaze was now at him. "Don't be too hard on her now."

"She shouldn't be out here." Looking back at Arden, Robb took several steps towards her. His hands rested on her shoulders, making her seem smaller even though she was taller than most girls. "You're not hurt anywhere are you?"

"I'm not." She sounded rather frustrated. "I can take care of myself." She slapped his hand away, not roughly, but enough to warn that she didn't want or like his doting. "I'm a big girl." Arden stressed, erasing the slouch of shoulders and tilting her chin up, "A woman-grown."

"Oh, you're _definitely_ a big girl." Theon whistled, smirking afterwards just to receive a glare from both Jon and Robb simultaneously. "What? She's a woman now, we all can see it."

"See it less and quietly, will you?" replied Robb as he checked Arden again, almost having to make sure she was fine to his standards. "I told you before that you couldn't come out here with us and you still did it anyway."

"And I'm fine, aren't I?" Jon caught her giving Robb a small smile, trying her best to assure him that there had been no need for him to worry. "If I would've waited for the three of you, you all would've came back with nothing. A shame, really, that the three of you couldn't even catch a little rabbit."

Embarrassed and annoyed, none of them had the proper comeback or explanation. That is until Theon refused to let his pride be any more wounded than it already was, "I almost caught myself a deer until somethin' scared it off."

"Right." Rolling her eyes, she let Robb take her end of the spear in order carry the large elk. "C'mon now before Lord Stark wonders if his sons and ward got themselves lost out here."

"Aren't you missing stitching lessons?" Robb asked, not taking more of her jabs. "Septa Mordane won't be happy."

"When is she ever?" Arden mumbled, making both Robb and Jon laugh due to how true it was. The Septa was scary and always angry from what Jon always saw. "This is fun isn't it? The four of us, out in the woods, about to eat some tasty elk when we get on home."

Robb didn't share her enthusiasm. "You should be more worried about my mother and father finding out you were out here."

"How about we not talk about that?" Jon watched the Dornish girl squint her eyes in feign aggravation as they walked their way to their horses so that they could ride back home.

 **ARDEN**

Steady breaths.

She learned to take steady breaths whenever she was in trouble or else she'd start rambling, making excuses that always didn't make sense. Lady Stark had the ability to dissect everything she said and prove her wrongs in several different ways. The woman made it easy to make her regret everything she wanted or what she did, and that regret for running off to the Wolfswood was sitting in the pit of her stomach. "What were you doing in the Wolfswood?" The question she knew that would come came and Arden couldn't think of a single excuse. She tried to find one, thinned out to elaborate; any known to man to make, but nothing. Nothing. Absolutely nothing could come to mind. It would've been better to just take the lecture and be done with it since there was nothing she could say or do to change it all.

"You could've gotten hurt," Lady Stark's eyes were like a blizzard or perhaps, more like a solid block of ice. "You could've gotten killed." She stressed to show the severity of the situation she rose herself in. "What if they mistook you for a Wildling or one of the animals? An animal could've attacked you and nobody could've known you were out there."

All the scenarios could've played out, Arden could at least mentally admit that. Still, she couldn't help but find that the woman was being overdramatic. It all really stemmed down to the fact that Lady Stark believed in to be proper little things; masters of sewing, singing, and manners galore. Arden tried to live up to that. She took her lessons diligently and tried her best to please the Septa and yet it was all so boring. When she read the story of women warriors, Arden wanted to be a little like them. She wanted to keep her femininity as well as obtain the masculine arts of fighting and war tactics. Arden never understood why a woman couldn't have or do both. Dorne wasn't as strict and allowed their women to fight. There were even a few Westerosi women that fought, but they had gave up their dresses and voices for song in some ways in order to achieve that.

"I'm a good archer." She found the will to defend herself, "I am very capable of protecting myself. You should worry not, Lady Catelyn."

A sigh escaped the woman, her pale and petite hands gathered both of Arden's own to hold. "You are like a daughter to me, Arden." said Lady Stark, her voice soft and warm. "I feel as though you were my first girl, right before my Sansa." That made her heart flutter and it made her smile. "I fed you from my breast, just like you were mine because y _ou are_ mine in all the ways that it matters."

Arden felt the same about Lady Stark, considering she never knew her own mother since the woman died when she was a few hours new to the world. Lord Stark never wanted to speak of how her mother perished, but she heard the rumors amongst the halls of how her mother threw herself from a tower and into the sea.

It left Arden unsure of whether she should pity or hate her mother for having done that and leaving her behind in this world. When she was younger, less willing of having a different perspective than her own, she held a deep hatred for Lord Stark. It began when she learned of what happened to her uncle and her mother. It wasn't his fault, at least she wasn't sure if she grew to realize that or forced the thought onto herself. It wasn't his fault, not an entirely, for her mother's death and her uncle did side with the man that had taken Lord Stark's sister after all. It was also Howland Reed that gave the decisive blow as well.

It left her feeling quite numb and unsure most days and then others, she felt no reason to feel anything because she had loved the Starks and was loved by them in return. She loved it here, even if her mind did sometimes wonder how life would've been back in Dorne at Starfall. How much of a difference would it have made? What would she be like? Bastards, from what she read, were treated much better there than they were here in Westeros.

"I know." Her voice was soft, weak in will in the slightest of moments. "But I am not a little girl, I'm a Dornishwoman. My people take pride in women warriors, I can't— _I won't_ forget that." She knew those words seemed to pierce the woman in the heart because it reminded her that blood did matter in some ways. It built a wall, small as it may be, but it was there and its presence could not be ignored.

Her eyes caught Lady Stark's nod, slow and rather feeble. "You are right," She began to say, "it is in your blood and I cannot change it no matter how much I wish to."

"Lady Catelyn, I…" Her guilt made the words sit in her throat, knowing she'd feel worse if she actually said them. It surely hadn't compared to how Lady Stark felt of her pushing who she really was in the forefront.

"I know." Was all she said, meaning there was no need to explain. Arden wanted to, she wanted to apologize, but Lady Stark would have none of it. "Make sure that Arya is dressed and goes to lessons. There are a few things I must attend to."

Nodding, Arden watched the woman leave her bedchambers to drown in uncomfortable silence. If only she took the woman's feelings into consideration instead of stressing her stubborn desire for freedom to do and be what she wanted. It wasn't fair to project her frustrations on someone that only cared for her wellbeing.

"All right." Letting out a much needed exhale, Arden tried to school her expression into something happy and playful, one that Arya would rather meet. She hoped Arya was already awake for she didn't want to tousle and fight the girl just to simply get her out of the bed. Arya in the mornings was quite the little monster. She would cling onto the blankets for dear life and roll herself into them, all so she could avoid lessons with the Septa. Arden couldn't say that wasn't how she truly felt inside. Sometimes she wanted to roll in the blankets herself and sleep during the duration of lessons. By the time she would hypothetically wake, she could do whatever it is that she wanted.

A little too good to be true, Arden supposed.

Her mother was a handmaiden for Princess Elia Martell, both Lord and Lady Stark told her that. Whether if her mother was a good or bad one was really unknown, but Arden couldn't help but think that her mother was a good one. She had to for a princess and the two were said to be quite close. Who would keep someone that was terrible at their duties? Friendship couldn't necessarily cover that completely. So at times, Arden thought that she had to be the same just to feel some sort of kinship with a woman she didn't really know.

When she reached the younger Stark girl's door, she pressed her ear to the door to hear if there was noise from the other side. At first, she heard shuffling of barefeet, which made her wonder if Arya was fully dressed. Then she heard mumbles and the forceful sound of a drawer being shut. Arden decided to give the girl a solid minute before she opened the door to see that Arya's was mostly dressed, but it was her hair that was a wild mess.

"Arden." The girl called her name, rather enthusiastically since she knew what it meant when Arden came to retrieve her for the mornings.

"Let me brush your hair." Knowing that Arya could barely do a simple braid, the young girl said nothing but flopped down to a chair, waiting for Arden to take the brunette's unkempt locks.

Her fingers, long and pale, had slipped between the swinging strands of hair that belonged to Arya. "I don't want to go to stitching lessons." Her every day mantra, meant to cool her frustrations since they couldn't change anything.

"Neither do I." Arden replied, sighing even. "I just came back from the Wolfswood."

Intrigued, Arya's big and grey eyes looked up at her from the reflection of the mirrors. "What were you doing in the Wolfswood?"

"I followed Robb, Jon, and Theon." The both of them instantly smiled, "They took too long hunting and so I followed them."

"You should've took me with you!" She expected the girl to say that.

A section of hair was now free of tangles while the others are not, but she sooner rectifies it with a few strokes of the brush. "I would have but I did not wish to wake you. They left at dawn and I waited for three hours until I went looking for them."

"Did you catch anything?" Arya asked, "If it took them that long then I know they didn't."

Arden couldn't help but laugh at how Arya knew them too well, "I did. I caught an elk. He's quite big and took two arrows to the neck, but he went down."

"His neck must've been thick to need two arrows." Arya mumbled, "I don't really like elk or deer, not that much."

"It was the closest thing we could find. I suppose I should've looked for a turkey for you, huh?" Arden watched her nod, her mouth looking as if it wanted to water at the thought of a roasted turkey for supper. Arden couldn't deny that had sounded much better than elk too.

"We should go riding later." Her suggestion made Arden frown, really because she loathed horseriding. She hated the way her thighs would be so sore and even though she loved the wind whipping her hair, she didn't love the price she had to pay for it. She liked to watch Arya and Bran ride, hearing them laugh as Robb and Jon would lead them around. That had been more satisfying than being ahorse.

Weaving the girl's hair into a braid with all the tangles and knots gone, she prepared to make it all into a neat and braided bun. "How about you go on riding and I just watch?"

 **CATELYN**

Her duties pulled her to many places, everywhere and anywhere, outside and inside of Winterfell. Her legs were used to the long walks and standing for hours, which made her all the more grateful when the sun finally sunk and the moon took its place. The best part was when she could lie down by the fire, curled next to Ned, and sleep soundly. It was her duty as the Lady of Winterfell, but her duty as mother tired her and stressed her more than running a castle.

Her blue eyes looked away from Luwin, just to observe her home, and caught sight of Arya running through the courtyard and to the stables with Bran right behind her. She watched curiously as they met with Robb and Jon Snow, who were smiling and tousling their hair. Hodor came to greet them, smiling and excited as the half-giant always was. From the looks of it, he was told to prepare their horses and she knew more than anyone that it meant they would ride around the castle.

Coming rather late to the joyous bunch was Arden, who walked with little Rickon at her side and their hands clasped together and swinging. She speaks to him and him to her, the boy never so shy when she was by his side. Rickon and Arden were quite close all because Arden been so enraptured by a baby when she understood what a baby really was. When Sansa was young, she was a toddler herself, and Arya and Bran, she was only five or six. Six years ago, when Rickon was born, Arden had affinity for him and hated parted with him when he had to be fed. If anything, the boy became spoiled for attention because of her and he had a hard time unlatching himself from others due to her clingy nature with him.

 _"I am not a Stark."_

Arden's words echoed inside her head, bringing that needle like pain through her heart in the same essence as when she first heard it. It was the truth, Catelyn knew that more than anyone, but it still hurt to hear it than it was to acknowledge it.

Arden Sand was hers, she declared it so, just a few months when the girl was forced into her life. When she first met this Dornish girl that Ned felt obligated to take care of, she was just a sickly and small thing in a bundle of lilac blankets. She was not weighty and red like her Robb was when he was born, but fragile and pale because she had been born too soon. Most times, Catelyn had been so afraid to touch her for she had been worried that the baby would fall apart beneath her fingers or be crushed in her hold. When her fears had lessened, she fed the girl plenty with her teats, hoping the child would gain more weight since she didn't feel as though the wet nurse fed her enough. It could've been her own excuses to get a glimpse of what it feels like to have and hold a daughter.

Before her eyes, Arden grew and became healthier with some bumps along the way. She was stick thin, delicate in health as a child, but the Seven ( as Catelyn prayed it to be ) had made the girl well in due time. Her milk, her love, and her faith had made that all possible. Now Arden was a beautiful girl that was a woman grown with hopes and ambitions despite her limitations. The girl knew the way of the court and the way of the bow like it was the rightful balance when it was the wrong scale.

"They've grown quite quickly, haven't they?" The Maester frightened her for a second, but she hadn't let it show. Catelyn stood still, her eyes observing her children and the bastard Jon Snow.

"They have." She smiled, sadly, as she watched Robb laugh and Arden glare her eyes she could narrow like fine daggers back at him. "Too quickly."

"When will you tell Arden that she has received a letter from her lord cousin in Starfall?" Catelyn wanted to ignore his question, to act as if it was never asked. All mention of Starfall, she wanted to push away, just to keep Arden close to hearth that was Winterfell.

Her eyes glanced at Luwin, who gave her a knowing look. "Not yet. Just give me a little more time."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note** : Sorry this chapter is insanely short and a bit melodramatic. As soon as it was about to get light-hearted and fun, my laptop decided to be an ass. I should've bought a new laptop ages ago, and I am now.

 _Arianna Le Fay_ : I still have no idea who to pair her with. I want to explore her relationships with them a bit more! I'm trying to find out the right chemistry because it'll determine how the plot will change.

 _k00n_ : Sad but true. I suppose it's because we don't have much about them and haven't gotten to see them as much on screen except for how amazing ( and handsome ) Arthur was. I hope you eventually write it! I would love to read it.

 _writingNOOB_ : It seems that way. Who knows, a few other men might be contenders. After all, a certain Lannister admired Ser Arthur Dayne. How would he deal with meeting that same knight's niece?

* * *

 **ARDEN**

The godswood always brought her this tranquility that she couldn't find anywhere else. She couldn't find it in the Sept nor in the sanctuary that was her bedchamber. She could only find it here. There was something comforting about the eyes of the old gods to her, watching her and giving her no absolution that she was alone. Even if everything she had loved were to abandon her now, she wouldn't be by herself. Not in the godswood. Robb and Jon agreed with her, finding that tranquility here too. Theon always thought her strange for thinking that. He said she was "troubled in the head finding peace with so many eyes" but that's because he still held love and continued to worship the Drowned God. Her whole life was about eyes anyway. When you're a bastard, all eyes are on you.

Her knees were pressed to her chest, her back against the white weirwood tree, and with her eyes closed. Her ears picked up each and every sound of the morning. From the chirping of birds, how the gusty wind made the branches sway so the leaves would rustle. Sometimes with this sweet peace, she could imagine a sea she never knew. She thought she smelled the Summer Sea, scenting the air of its fresh coolness that would caress her skin. The murky, grey clouds of the North weren't there and sunlight poured down on her instead, seeping its warmth into her skin. She would imagine Dorne. A place she couldn't remember; a place that felt like a foggy memory that she would never get to see clearly.

"There you are." Robb's voice made her eyes flutter open, blinking away the blur that came from when you kept your eyes closed for too long. She could see him clearly now, his smile the first thing her eyes caught sight of. "I've been looking all over for you," Robb explained, taking a seat beside her, letting his broad back rest against the tree as well, "I should've known you'd be here."

"You always know where to find me," Arden smiled faintly, her eyes looked down at the ground that was covered with the beautiful leaves of the heart tree, "right here in my safe place."

"I never understood that," he brought one leg close to his chest, letting the other remained stretched out, "why must you need a safe place?"

Her life was far from difficult. Arden was treated better than Jon Snow, who needed a place where he felt safe completely. He needed a place where society's rules had no affect on him and he was who he wanted to be. There were times, however, when everything became overwhelming for her too. When her mind would wonder to what it would be like with her own family and in her own home. She wasn't ungrateful for Lord and Lady Stark's love, but it never felt like it belonged to her.

Arden took her time in answering, not wanting to offend Robb, "Everyone needs a place for them to breathe and this is the place for me."

Her eyes from the bloodline of Old Valyria glanced over at him, seeing his head was already turned in her direction. His blue eyes made his thoughts obvious and she wished she kept herself silent. Robb always worried. She hated when he did. Now matter how old they would grow, he still got so protective that sometimes she couldn't breathe. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing is bothering me." Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rested her chin between her knees.

"They say it's better to talk things out then it is to hold it all in." Arden didn't want to smile, but she did anyway. "I'm not going to scold you, so talk to me."

Jon was always the easier one to vent to. Sometimes she didn't want people to talk back, she wanted to rant to get it all out. Jon would listen, only offering advice when she asked. Robb, however, always wanted to fix things. There were many things he couldn't fix and she hated the way he got so upset because he felt so useless. For them to be brothers, even just by the half, they were so vastly different. Sometimes she had to wonder just who Jon's mother was because she put so much of herself into him.

"I was thinking about Dorne," she admitted, somewhat defeatedly, "I thought I could smell the sea by Starfall and feel the hot sun on my skin. I was even thinking of what it would be like if I saw it one day. It makes me feel selfish and makes me feel sad because I love you all so much that just the thought of leaving hurts. Then I tell myself… why would I want to be in the home my mother ended her life in? I feel like I would hate her if I was there. I feel like I would push myself to go the tower she flung herself out of and curse her, hoping her spirit would hear me. Hoping her spirit would haunt me so I could finally meet her."

Before she even knew her mother took her own life, Arden would have dreams of a beautiful woman at a ledge. The waves of the sea would crash over the rocks far down below, echoing as loud as thunder roars during a storm. The wind would pick up, whipping her hair into her face, letting her black locks brush against her face. Even though tears were in her eyes, falling down her face, there was a smile. Her arms had stretched out into the sky, stars twinkling, and then she would step off. She would fall, but Arden would never see or hear her drop into the waters. She would only hear a voice, quiet and sweet; a voice that carried in the seabreeze. _"Arthur. My baby. I will come to see you soon."_

If it hadn't been the sudden memory of her mother in her mind, she would've felt Robb's hand grab her wrist and clasp her hand. The affection didn't garner any surprise. Robb was always attentive and affectionate like that, "You should go to Dorne one day," his words, however, completely caught her off guard, "Winterfell is your home, but you'll never be satisfied until you see Starfall at least once."

It was a bit shocking for Robb to not sound so frustrated. She was really afraid that he would take her words as abandoning the Starks and Winterfell. Robb fiercely called her part of them, a part of the North, and to hear him accepting of letting her spread her wings was enough to make her want to hug him. She would've peppered his face with kisses had she forgotten how old they were. Dorne was so lax with that kind of affection, she once read, but the North was so strict about the relations between a man and a woman. So her hand grasped onto his a bit tighter, giving it a squeeze as she smiled warmly.

"It looks like Robb has matured, huh? Who told you to become a man without me knowing?" she teased him, knowing very well Robb was more than a man she was willing to admit. All of them were grown just about. They were Summer children and Summer was going to end soon, which means their childhood was going to leave them just like the season.

"You're now starting to notice?" The auburn haired boy stood up, brushing the heart tree's leaves off his breeches before outstretching his hand for her to take. "You're a woman-grown just as I am a man-grown. It's about time we act like it."

She wasn't sure what he meant by that, but she didn't want to think he really meant anything by it. Pursing her lips, she took his hand and was helped up to her feet. Arden too began to groom herself, the back of her hand swiping away at the leaves that stuck to her skirts. Robb picked up on leaf that laid atop of her head, startling her some. Arden stood there, meekly and confused, as she watched him practically through her eyelashes. He was looking down at her due to the difference in height between them with his smile still remaining. How awkward would it have been if she had kissed him at seventeen when Robb was going to be eighteen soon? Robb was most definitely man and she was surely no longer a little girl

Her tongue darted across her bottom lip that suddenly felt excruciatingly dry. "Where is Jon and Theon?" she asked, looking down at her feet just to watch the leaves crunch beneath her feet.

"Practicing." Turning away, Robb took a few steps ahead, slowing down to allow her to quickly catch up to his side. Arden laced her fingers together, unsure of what to do with her hands. She wanted to test how warm her face was and why she felt so shy at the sudden realization that the four of them weren't children anymore.

The Dornish girl occasionally looked up at Robb, wondering what he was thinking at the moment. Usually, he was at practice with Theon and Jon. He liked to show off, taunting his brother and best friend, showing how deft he was with a weapon in his hand. Practice was where Jon shined the most in her opinion. The way he handled a sword sometimes left her in awe and because she enjoyed that look of pride in his grey eyes when he won in a spar against Robb or when Ser Rodrik praised him. Jon Snow rarely smiled and when he did, Arden felt it contagious.

 _"Us bastards must stick together."_

She remembered telling him that once. Sometimes she thought it whenever she heard Jeyne Poole speak of her bastardy name or when Lady Stark gave Jon cold and mean looks. Whenever the two of them felt so small, so less than everyone else, she thought of her words. They could find each other and speak that phrase and it would erase all of their hurt and worries out of their mind.

Just thinking about Jon made her feel guilty though. Lady Stark scolded him when she discovered that Jon had found her first and didn't make her return home. Arden hadn't even known about it until Rickon slipped and revealed he heard his mother yelling at Jon about her being in the Wolfswood. If she would've known that earlier, she would've apologized in his place. It wasn't his fault and he hadn't deserved the tongue lashing, but Lady Stark looked for any and everything to punish Jon with words as cold as Winter.

The sound of clashing steel and the strain of a bowstring made her look around. Jon was practicing with a wooden dummy while Theon was shooting at a target. The thought of ever leaving this place and never seeing them like this again was frightening.

"Well if it isn't my favorite Sand." She heard Theon say after letting an arrow go and watching it hit the target dead center. Arden made one brow climb up her forehead in a perfect arch. "Shouldn't you be in lessons? Learning how to stitch me a nice pair of breeches."

"And why would I waste my stitching on you when you'll stain them with the sallies?" Robb snickered at her response as Theon's grin grew a little wider, "I'm the only Sand you know, so how can I be your favorite?"

"I doubt I'll ever meet another, so you're my favorite until I meet another Sand girl." The only time he'll ever want to meet one is so that he could lay with them. Arden wasn't stupid. Theon was a youthful man with a vigor for carnal pleasures. He was not yet married or promised to be, so she couldn't fault him for being with any girl that he desired. She just wished he learned a little tact and kept his devilish thoughts to himself and instead saying to her or around her.

Theon came to Winterfell when she and Jon were only four. He was six and Robb was barely five. She couldn't remember her first impression of him, but what she could remember was how distant he was. Most people would laugh, if they knew Theon, had you told them he was a quiet and reserved boy when he was younger. He was afraid and everyone was a stranger not to mention his brothers died in the rebellion his father started. The only thing Arden could remember around the time she was met him was asking him, _"They had to take you from your family too?"_ Since then, she and Theon shared that bond, a bond of being far from home in a place of non-relatives. Theon, however, was not raised in Winterfell since birth like she was. Theon remembered his home and his family. She could remember nothing.

"Then you're my favorite until I meet another Greyjoy boy." She replied in kind and Theon's grin was something more like a smile to her now.

"Are you two flirting?" Jon asked, semi-disgusted, "Don't feed his ego, it's already big enough."

Wrinkling her nose, she shoved Jon with her shoulder, ever so slightly. "As if! Theon practically lives in a brothel, why I would ever lay with him? I'd get a taste of Ros, Gwendolyn, Sasha, Melinda, and every other whore there if I even peck his cheek."

"Peck it then and I might consider never going to a brothel again." Rolling her eyes, she looked away from the cackling Greyjoy and turned her attention to Jon. Arden smoothed out his tunic with the palm of her hands, brushing away any sort of lint or dirt that caught on him. "

"Why are you so dirty?" she scolded him, adjusting his tunic, "Were you in a rush this morning?"

Her eyes hadn't caught his smile, she was too busy making sure he was much more presentable than how he was right now. "I did wake a little late," he admitted, sounding somewhat embarrassed.

"You're the son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North," she continued on, checking if anything was out of place before she adjusted some of his curly hair away from his face, "bastard or not, you must look your very best, even if we have no guests."

"I can't tell if you're acting like a mother or a wife," Robb commented, folding his arms with a half smile, "Will you nag your husband the same way you do us?"

She glared at him with the same sharpness of a freshly forged sword and Robb's smile immediately turned into a worried frown, "I only nag because I care."

Truthfully, she only nagged at Jon because nobody else would nag at him. They were loving nags, she would think. The same kind that Lady Stark would give to her and her own children. Jon had no one to look out for him except herself and Arya, but Arya didn't mind messes. Arden too had to sometimes fix Arya so she looked more presentable despite how difficult the task was. Arya and Jon, sometimes, were going to be death of her, she swore it.

 **CATELYN**

"Why have you been keeping this letter?" Catelyn stood before her husband, her love, with her hands laced before her. She knew that Ned wouldn't like the idea of her keeping things from Arden, even if it meant that she was easing away Arden's curiosity of her home just a little. She did not want the girl to think too much of Dorne or the family that was there. Winterfell was her home and the Starks her family. Catelyn was more of her mother than the life's blood of Ashara's Dayne that ran through the girl's veins. Why should she have to worry of people who are more like strangers? Why should these strangers have the right to take her away?

Ned wasn't truly angry, but he was most definitely annoyed. He hadn't condoned what she done and neither could he understand why she had done it in the first place. "I was afraid," Catelyn admitted, her voice becoming more and more mien, "I'm afraid one of those letters will be telling her to come back to Starfall, to Dorne. What am I to do if she were to leave me? She is mine, she's mine than she ever is theirs."

"Cat…" he sighed as he called her name, "she is theirs. Their blood is within her, you cannot change that." She did not want to hear what she already knew. What she was afraid to acknowledge as the years came and went. Arden was hers. She was hers in all the ways it mattered. Her first girl, right before Sansa. Her second child, right after Robb. If Ned could have a bastard, one that he loved and protected, than why can't she? He brought her here. He made her love her without him even trying. All he did was lay that dark-haired baby right in her arms and Catelyn fell for her in an instant.

"I know that, Ned." She knew it, but she didn't want to admit it. Arden wasn't hers and she never was. She only belonged to her for a time and that time was running out. "What am I to do if she is to leave? We may never see her again. She might love her family so much more than she ever loved us and I'm not ready."

"You do not even know the contents of the letter." His large hand pressed to the side of her head, and she leaned in because of the warmth despite the callouses. "She is their family. She has every right to speak to them and see them if that is what she wishes." His words were true, painfully so. "She'll resent you if she learns of this."

"If she resents me then that would mean she would love me still." It was a painful form of love, but it was still love. Catelyn could accept that as long as she stayed in that Sand girl's heart and head. Resentment was a fraction of love that she was willing to bear for the sake of keeping this girl that was nearly her very own.

Ned continued to brush the side of her head, making her cup his hand as a sigh soon escaped her. "You give her the letter, I cannot." She was pushing a responsibility that should've been hers onto him, but he could speak to Arden so easily about this touchy subject. Ned would know how to console her and speak to her, whatever the news from Dorne may bring.

 **EDDARD**

 _"Your brother says you wish to dance with me. Don't be shy, Young Lord. It's but a dance. I will not come to harm you."_

"Lord Stark!" The vision of Ashara slowly melted away, changing and becoming Arden, who stood before him. She was still running towards him, her dark hair waving like a banner does in the wind, as she wore a beaming smile. The girl always greeted him with one, almost like she had a reason to be happy when she saw him. He would wonder if it was right to take here to Winterfell after all these years. The North did not fit for a girl like Arden, who belonged in the throng of a crowd, dancing and laughing, like her mother used to. "You wished to see me."

He gave her a rather kind smile, small but genuine, now that she was close enough for an orthodox conversation. He turned around to gather the letter on his desk, the purple wax seal of a falling star was in full view to her. He watched her eyes grow big as she gently took the letter. "It's from…" She hadn't finished the sentence, knowing just where it came from and knowing that he knew it as well. She looked to him, like she was asking him for permission to open it, and he inclined his head to the letter.

She broke the seal, fingers trembling as she unrolled it to read its contents. Her eyes scour the page, reading every word before her in such a hurry. Arden finally stopped reading, making it to the end of the letter before she lowered it and looked up at him. "My cousin Edric, who is Lord of Starfall, says he hopes that I'll one day visit. He says I can come to Starfall whenever I wish… I can even live there if my heart so desires."

Ned thought that the girl would be elated at such news, but she was crying instead. One tear after another came falling down her eyes while she sniffed as if it would make them all retreat. He pushed himself away from the desk, walking towards the Dornish girl and placed one hand on her head like a father does to his daughter. Arden may have never been his, but she very much felt like it. He remembered her skinny arms around her neck as she and the boys liked to tackle him down on the green grass of the courtyard.

He also remembered when she first learned to run, both her and Jon always chasing Robb, who was always a few steps ahead of them. Her hand was always leading Jon along, pulling him and pushing him to be where she was. Just like the hand of Ashara, who pulled him and pushed him to dance with her, to stand with her, and to speak with her. Arden was very much like her mother; bold and outgoing, never letting distance nor time stop her from gaining what she wanted.

Arden soon smile, eyes slit-closed. "I always wanted to go to Dorne and to see my family, but the thought of leaving the North and Winterfell is _terrifying_."

"You will always have a home here, Arden." Ned tried his best to comfort her, pressing a kiss atop of her head as her arms came to circle him.

He grew stiff in her embrace. _"What am I going to do, Ned? What am I going to do?"_ Ashara's voice came rushing in his head, his eyes halfway wide as soon as Arden pulled away, her mother stood there like the apparition she was. "Thank you, Lord Stark. I want to think about it. Robb says I should go, but I never asked Jon…"

"He'll support you as he always does." The words left him, the focus gone from his eyes or else he'd fear Ashara would stand before him again. He looked blankly at the wall above her head, trying to make it seem like he was still very much present in their conversation. He wondered if this was Ashara's ways of telling him that Arden should've never left Starfall. Why would she haunt him now of all times? Did she hate what he did? Did she hate that he took a girl from life under the sun and into the cruel and merciless North? Did she resent him for letting her go all those years ago to fulfill his duty as the new Lord of Winterfell and to the husband of Catelyn? Of course she would. Of course she would resent him for all these years. He had done so many things he wished he could change and the consequence was to be haunted by Lyanna's voice, Brandon's face, and Ashara's spirit.


End file.
